


I Don't Believe in Safety Nets

by briggs



Series: A Version of Events [1]
Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Closeted Character, I mean, M/M, am i wrong?, get ur head out of ur butt lukas amirite, ill write sex later maybe, it's nothing too fancy, philip shea is arguably In His Head Too Much, this is exactly what it sounds like, this takes philips point of view
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briggs/pseuds/briggs
Summary: My version of events leading up to Philip and Lukas' relationship in the first episode.





	

**Author's Note:**

> as of posting, this is the longest Philip/Lukas fic on AO3, so I hope you like it!!
> 
> title taken from Slip by Elliot Moss. enjoy!

Lukas noticed Philip the minute he stepped inside the building on his first day. It was a boy, a new boy, one with big eyes and a firm jaw. He noticed his leather jacket, how his shirt hugged his ribs, how his hair fell gracefully without him paying any attention to it. Lukas distinctly remembers licking his lips, shaking his head, and telling himself that kid was going to get himself killed within four days.

Philip remembers everything a little differently. He didn’t notice Lukas for weeks, just kept his head down, didn’t talk much, did his best not to piss anyone off. All he could think about was his mom, and his new home, and the court, and everything the judge said. He spent Physics class wondering if his mom was actually trying to get sober. He thought of how soon visitation might be possible instead of reading through Hamlet in English. And all the while, there was a boy seated behind him, busy making masterpieces of the back of his head. 

It was clear, essentially from the first day, that this new high school was sectioned off like the ones in the movies. Maybe not as specifically, but it was clear there was definitely a line between the popular kids, the nerds, and the weird ones. Not talking much and refusing to join teams or clubs other than photography immediately filed Philip into the “weird” category, whether he intended for that to happen or not.

Helen actually said something about making sure not to close himself off or let himself be labeled in one of her numerous debriefings before his first day, but in all honesty he hadn’t paid much attention and wasn’t sure it was that easy anyway.

So it went, Philip moving zombie-like through his classes, mind stuck on the past and home and a million things he didn’t have the power to change. Maybe it was the town, or maybe it was the way his life was going, but everything seemed a little less colourful, even without a camera in his hand.

The first time someone talked to him in that school was in photography club.

The first time someone complimented his photography was in photography club.

The first time someone asked his name was in photography club.

There’s a period of time, after each meeting, that you can just arrange a book of your work, or spend time editing your photos on a school computer. Philip doesn’t do a lot of editing, but he does usually sort through them to figure out which ones he’s going to show his mom, which ones he can delete, and which just look cool. 

It’s three weeks into school before a voice comes from behind him. “Hey, that looks, um. That looks pretty good,” the voice says, unnecessarily uneasy. It’s not a familiar voice, or if it is, Philip isn’t used to it being this careful, this unsure. He can’t help smiling, even though he doesn’t know whose voice is praising him. “I like the, uh, colours.” It’s still the first time anyone’s complimented something he enjoys doing.    
  
When Philip turns around, his face drops, probably visibly, and he fights the urge to turn back to the computer. The guy standing behind his chair is tall, lanky, bleach blond, and the very same asshole Philip watched almost push a poor kid down the stairs the other day. Just because he didn’t do it doesn’t mean his character is saved. He gathered the guy’s name is Lukas from all the kids chanting at him to “just do it already.” Hell, he’s even visibly laughed at Philip before in his group of asshole friends.   
  
“If you’re going to insult it, you may as well just go ahead.” He rolls his eyes as he turns back to the computer, fuck being polite. It’s not worth it to give this guy the time of day when all he’s bound to do is be a dick.   
  
The uneasy voice sounds again. Lukas must really be putting effort into the act, because his voice cracks and even without turning around, Philip knows he’s shuffling his weight from foot to foot. “N-no, I’m serious, it’s really good. What’s, um, what’s your name?”   
  
“Do you care?” Philip bites, refusing to turn around.   
  
It’s quiet for a while, and for a moment it seems Lukas as walked away. But then he clears his throat and tries again. “Hey, come on,” he says, and that’s when Philip sighs and turns his chair around, if only to help convince this guy to give up, give the psychological or physical beating, and move on. “Tell me your name.”

It’s then that Philip notices the room has emptied. He has no clue how long ago -- it’s not unusual for everyone to leave before him, and the teacher supervisor is working in the next room. Finally, it makes sense for Lukas to be speaking to him -- though the nervousness is still confusing. Is he just genuinely not used to being  _ nice? _   
  
“Please,” Lukas insists again. His hands are shoved into his jacket pockets, and he looks like he resents the fact that this is taking so much effort. It’s just that Philip can’t tell for the life of him what Lukas could possibly gain from putting in this much effort at all. Into anything, let alone befriending a the weird new kid in school who spends all day in the photography room.

Eventually, he gives in. “Philip,” he says, but he doesn’t give more than that.   
  
“Philip? Oh, y-yeah, um, cool. I’m Lukas--”   
  
“I know.”   
  
“Oh,” he says, and seems to be considering throwing himself out the third-floor window or possibly running out the classroom door as fast as he can and never looking back. He stays where he is though, looking away, and Philip spins back around to the computer with his photos. After a couple seconds, when Philip has, once again, assumed Lukas left, he speaks again. “Is this seat taken?” he asks, and Philip looks back to see him pointing at the chair beside.   
  
This time, he tries to hide the rolling of his eyes, though admittedly not well. “Yeah, by imaginary friend, Greg. Sit on him and you’re dead.”   
  
“Is that a threat?” Lukas laughs uneasily.

It only further confuses Philip as to why he’s still here, why he cares about sitting down and looking at Philip’s pictures. “Take it how you want.” He doesn’t want Lukas to sit down.

He doesn’t want to see that Lukas is a person, that’s he’s not 100% a bad one. He doesn’t want Lukas to talk to him, and he certainly doesn’t want to know  _ why _ Lukas wants to talk to him at all.

He doesn’t want to hope. He doesn’t want to be wrong. He doesn’t want to think that maybe he can finally make a friend here, maybe he can finally have someone to talk to. In reality, Philip doesn’t want to watch this boy stamp out every dream he had about this place being possibly survivable.   
  
And yet, with a face like his, Philip thinks if he weren’t careful, he might just let Lukas destroy him.

 

*

 

Lukas leaves a little later. He leaves quietly, getting up from his chair, possibly finally getting the hint, and as he’s about to step out of the door, he says, “I’ll see you later?” and it’s so out of character that Philip just looks up, giving so small of a nod he doesn’t even know if Lukas registers it before he leaves.

Philip is stuck in a state if inoperable shock and confusion for the next two minutes. He doesn’t understand anything that just happened, or why. Why did Lukas go all the way up to the third floor in the first place? Was it coincidence? Is Lukas looking for a friend or was he specifically trying to find Philip?    
  
After a while, he kind of realizes that no matter how long he sits there mulling it over, he’ll never understand it, not now. So he shakes the thoughts out of his brain, continues going through his photos from the week, and doesn’t think about it as he walks home, either.   
  
Helen and Gabe are clearly suspicious of him at dinner, but neither of them ask anything specific, and in all fairness Philip doesn’t know why they would anyway. There’s nothing to tell.

When they ask if he’s made any friends, like he has for the past three weeks, Philip lies.

The next couple days, Lukas stands out a bit more. It’s easy to see his bleached hair anywhere, and he’s so tall Philip is confused over how he ever missed the guy before. He walks through the halls with a confident stride when he’s with his friends, and only once does Philip catch a glance. Of course, there’s laughter that follows it, but for some reason it still leaves a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he doesn’t know how to ignore.

There’s no visible change in Lukas or Philip’s behaviour. Philip still considers himself friendless, and it’s clear Lukas is very comfortable in pretending the encounter never happened. Fine, let him have his fun. Whatever prank this ends in, at least Philip can say he was never truly invested in Lukas.

A couple days later, Philip watches Lukas pull up to school on a dirt bike. It’s so predictable, so utterly unsurprising, and yet Philip looks at it for a bit too long anyway. And if he spends the next week taking more pictures of dirt bikes and tire tracks than usual, well, no one has to know.

 

* 

 

Though they’re in almost all of the same classes, Philip and Lukas don’t talk again until the next photography meeting. 

Philip walks in, as he normally does. It’s been a pretty typical day, though he doesn’t remember much of it, until he steps in the room. As soon as he gets a good look at the room, he has to force himself not to walk right back out.

  
Lukas is sitting in the back, hood up and head down, slumped in his chair. He’s got a computer out as well, but Philip recognizes him anyway, and for some reason, Lukas doesn’t even notice him walking in the room.   
  
After tossing the supervisor a quick hello, Philip heads straight to the end of the room. He falls down into the chair beside the poorly-hidden Lukas, crosses his arms, and lets his anger slip through his teeth instead of yelling to the whole class. “Why the hell are you here?”

“Don’t look at me,” Lukas responds quietly. “Pretend I’m not here.”

  
“The disguise isn’t working, asshole, give it up. Make fun of me and then walk your sorry ass home, I don’t need this today.”   
  
“Shut up! I’m not here.”   
  
“Ugh.” Philip lets the noise fall out of his mouth, harsh, and has no regrets over doing so. He crosses his arms and takes out his phone, scrolling through his pictures from the week. Ever since his mom broke his camera before he moved, he’s been doing his best to save up for another but -- it’s not like part-jobs are simply waiting for him in a small town like this.   
  
Over the course of the meeting, the supervisor speaks a little, gives some ideas of inspiration for the next week of photos, and talks about galleries coming up. After that, it’s not long before everyone slowly files out -- the last of which is Tommy, who looks back at him. They’ve never talked before, but Tommy seems to take a look at the pictures on his camera, then at Philip, and back again before walking out. Philip automatically dismisses it, barely even acknowledges that it happens.

Instead, he watches everyone file out, and then immediately turns to Lukas in the seat beside him. “Okay,” he says, slowly, “seriously this time. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wanted to come see what it’s like.”

“Piss off.”

  
“Nah, I-I’m serious,” Lukas says again, making eye contact this time, before he looks away. Philip pretends he didn’t notice the colour of his eyes at all.

Philip scoffs again, starts packing up his stuff. “Well, you came, you saw, you conquered. You done?”

  
Lukas stutters for a while, then seems to stop to think. “No, I -- never mind.” And he walks out.   
  
*   
  
The next week, something changes. Suddenly, something in Philip gives up and he just… can’t keep it up. He wants a friend, he wants anyone to talk to, no matter how they treat him the next day. It’s harder than it sounds, being so undeniably alone and having to shoot down the only chance for friendship being offered to you.   
  
So when Lukas slips into the photography room after everyone else leaves the meeting for a week, he gives up. “Hey,” he says as Lukas moves into the room, without looking up from the computer. “Fancy seeing you here.”   
  
“H-hey,” Lukas says, and once again, without looking, Philip knows he’s uneasy, never likes being in this room, doesn’t like talking to Philip, doesn’t like being out of his element. And yet, he’s doing it anyway. “What’s that?”

“A computer. They’re this new invention, you should check one out sometime.”

  
Lukas laughs, less uneasy than the first time, and as much as Philip wants to be able to say it means nothing to him, he smiles just a little instinctively and has to hide it with his shoulder. “Ha, good one.” He shifts again. “I meant, um, what are you doing on the screen?”   
  
This time, Philip doesn’t even have to hold back a sigh because it never comes. He allows himself, for once, to believe Lukas might actually be interested. Interested in his photography, interested in what he’s doing, interested in talking to him, interested in friendship, interested in  _ him. _ But Philip knows that’s a dangerous thought, and he knows where it can lead. “It’s just a photo editing software. I’m just trying to bring the contrast up a little without making it look too unrealistic.”   
  
“Contrast. Is that, the -- the colours?”   
  
“Yeah, kind of.”   
  
“Cool. I-I think it looks good like that.” 

Philip instinctively stops fiddling with the meter, stopping somewhere just above the middle. “Like that?” He asks, and watches Lukas nod. “Cool.” He automatically flips to the next picture, which of course, is a picture of a dirt bike he saw in the city when he was thinking about visiting his mom. He ended up going to the nearby park to catch some shots of people mid-air, and of course those are all coming up right now.

  
Great.   
  
“Whoa!” Lukas says, scooching closer. It’s not even clear he knows he’s doing it, but he leans into Philip’s space and examines the screen. “What the hell dude, this is sick! Did you take this one?”   
  
Philip just nods, trying not to pay attention to how close Lukas really is to him.    
  
“Holy shit! Who is this biking? They look so sick!”

“It’s just someone I saw in the city. They were pretty good, too. I thought I may as well get a picture of them.”

  
Lukas turns his head around, looking hopeful. “You’re into this stuff?”   
  
“What? Oh, uh… y-um, yeah. I mean, yeah.”   
  
“Cool! Can I show you something?” He’s so excited, and he’s digging his phone out of his pocket, and Philip just doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. Lukas pulls out his phone, tapping and scrolling until he finds what he’s looking for. “I just set my phone on video and put it on some rocks, so it’s really shitty, but this is me.”  
  
He hands the phone over, and Philip watches the Youtube videos and tries to make sure there’s emotion on his face. He does his very best to look interested, and when the video’s over, he clicks another one from the same channel, breaking only to look up and ask, “Seriously, this is you?” which earns him an earnest and excited nod from the blond boy beside him. “This is sick!”

“Thanks,” Lukas says, taking his phone back from Philip and looking at the screen again. “My dad is more interested in shooting than he is dirt bikes, and none of my friends like motocross, so I post all my videos online.” He laughs a little, but it’s sad, and he stares at his hands in his lap. “The only one who comments on them is Rose, and that doesn’t count ‘cause she’s my girlfriend.”

Of course. Philip should have known better, he should have -- it’s perfectly predictable. The odds of finding a guy here are -- it’s pointless. He never should have let himself think, even for a moment, that he had a chance. But he keeps going anyway. He basically knew Lukas had a girlfriend anyway, for all intents and purposes, so it changes nothing. Plus, you never know what guys are like. “Nah, those are super cool.”

  
Lukas lights up, looks around, and then says, “Hey, you should -- do you wanna take pictures for me sometime?”   
  
There isn’t enough time for Philip to tell his mind to shut up before “Sure,” is already falling out of his mouth.   
  
*   
  
It doesn’t happen immediately. There’s another week, another photography meeting first, where Lukas is smiles and laughter and Philip is easiness and relaxation. He feels himself forget worrying about Lukas’ words, and worrying more about what his hands feel like, throwing away thoughts of being targeted for thoughts of being kissed. It’s everything Philip told himself he wouldn’t be stupid enough to wonder about, and yet, he can’t help it.

They move through the hallways for the next week unnoticed by anyone else, but still sharing a glance or two. Philip finds himself cursing every time Lukas slips into his thoughts, which is more often now than it was before, and he desperately tries to think of anything else.

Philip can handle boys. He can handle being attracted to them, and he can handle wanting to fuck them, wanting to be with them. But thinking about a boy with a girlfriend, an asshole, a spoiled rich kid with nothing on his mind but his own precious reputation -- it’s not an enticing thought. In fact, after everything that happened before he moved, he’s promised himself he wouldn’t get into straight boys with girlfriends again.

Look where that got him.

He pushes down every thought of Lukas for the whole week. He sinks, once again, into thoughts of, “I’m not getting my hopes up,” and “I can’t have this,” and when he sees Lukas laugh with his friends as he passes by, Philip finds it pretty easy.

  
And yet, lying between them, silent, is a promise. An invitation, a some day. Some day soon, they’re probably going to hang out outside of the photography room. What line does that cross?

When the next meeting finally comes around, Philip purposely waits this time. He knows exactly when the people around him are going to start filtering out -- but right before they do, Tommy finally decides to come up to him. Everyone’s essentially gone from the room, just Philip working at a computer and Tommy, who stays behind.

  
“Hey,” he starts, walking hesitantly toward Philip. Jesus, is he really that intimidating? “I just wanted to tell you, you know, your stuff is really good. Like, even these photos here -- they’re incredible, dude. I was looking at your stuff and I just have to ask. Why do you use your phone?”   
  
Philip lets out a small laugh, more of a huff than anything else. “Money, dude. I’d love a proper camera with good exposure, but I just can’t get one yet.”   
  
“Bummer,” Tommy says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “You know what you’re gonna get?”   
  
“Nah,” Philip shrugs. “I haven’t tried out enough of them to know what’s good. I’ve seen your photos though, the resolution looks incredible.”   
  
Taking a seat beside him, Tommy pulls his camera out of his carrying case, clearly holding it carefully. “Yeah, I’m really happy with it, but honestly? I wish I used it more.”   
  
“Don’t take a lot of pictures anymore?”   
  
Tommy laughs a little. “No, not anymore. I’ve been spending a lot of time with my girlfriend. I’d probably use it if I could take pictures like you, though.”

“I don’t want to overstep or anything, but do you think I could check it out sometime? I mean not for days at a time or anything, just a few photos. I’ve really been looking to see what those Canons are like.”

  
If Tommy hesitates, it’s not for long. He hums a little, thinking, and then nods. “Yeah, I mean, we can talk about it later, but sure. You’ll really love the res on this thing, it’s actually incredible.”   
  
It’s then that Lukas walks in, looking relaxed until he sees Tommy and immediately freezes. Funnily enough, Tommy does too, and seems to look from Philip to Lukas again before rushing out of the room with a quick, “Well, see ya!” thrown haphazardly back over his shoulder. He probably thinks Lukas is here to show Philip what a black eye is and doesn’t want to get in the way -- it actually almost pains him to think about whether or not Tommy’s had a run-in of that nature with Lukas before.

Once Tommy is gone, Lukas shakes off an invisible weight, but his shoulders only relax slightly. He walks over to Philip without much hesitation, backpack and a helmet in hand. “Hey,” he says, looking down at the computer.

  
“Hey,” Philip replies, closing the editing programs properly before he even begins packing up his stuff.   
  
“Who was that?”   
  
“Oh,” he says, shoving his books into his bag, “Just some kid. His name is Tommy, he was talking to me about some cameras.”   
  


Maybe Philip’s not supposed to catch the small smile that tugs gently at the side of Lukas’ mouth before he huffs a nonchalant, “Whatever,” but he does -- at least, he thinks he does. “Let’s go, I wanna show you something,” Lukas continues, handing Philip a helmet when he’s done with his bag. 

“Okay,” Philip says slowly, and then Lukas’ hand is grabbing his and dragging him downstairs and outside, onto the dirt bike and convincing his arms to grip Lukas’ waist. 

  
“Don’t fall off,” he laughs, looking back just a little, either trying to see Philip out of the corner of his eye or making sure no one’s mysteriously arriving at the school two hours past the bell to catch them in the act of -- God forbid -- interacting with one another. “Hug tighter,” he says, and then seems to cover himself with, “It’s not like it’s gay or anything.”

What a relief. Not gay? Thank God, Philip’s reputation, which was already so magnificent and impressive before, has been saved. Truly, it’s a blessing that it’s Not Gay to Not Die.

But he doesn’t say anything, just takes the opportunity to press his chest to Lukas’ back so that maybe, for a little while, he can feel the wind in his jacket, his body against Lukas’, and pretend it means something. Maybe pretend it’s something he can let himself have.

When they arrive at the cottage on the quarry, Philip takes a minute to just lift off his helmet and take it in, Lukas’ hair in perfect contrast with the colours of fall behind him. But the moment passes quickly, onto “Hold on,” and “watch this,” from Lukas, pushing on his helmet and fucking around on a dirt bike in ways Philip only has limited knowledge about. He knows when to ooh and ahh, he’s not a complete idiot -- plus, it is quite impressive, no matter how much you know about motocross -- but it’s not exactly his area of expertise, either.

  
He’s there because a part of him knows Lukas isn’t just looking for a friend who’s into motocross. A part of him is hoping beyond hope that he’s right about Lukas being at least a little bit into him -- at least a little bit into dudes, girlfriend or not.

After all the oohing and aahing and picture taking of sick flips and spins, Lukas tosses off his helmet, shakes his hair, and smirks in a way that should be illegal. “Cool, right?” he says, and it only makes sense for Philip to agree.

They go inside, Lukas pointing out key things about the cottage, explaining a few tools and old tackle boxes. He leaves Philip to take off his jacket and goes right for the fridge, pawing through and saying something about “weekend fishing trips,” and “old beer.” At this point, Philip will welcome any kind of alcohol he can get his hands on, if only to ease the edges, but Lukas doesn’t end up finding any.

  
It’s not long after that they go home.   
  
*   
  
The next day reverts once again to them pretending the other doesn’t exist. For all intents and purposes, nothing has changed between them from the outside view, but the looks they share in the hallways now have a base to them. A friendship, a secret, a very specific brand of trust.    
  
Philip wants to deck himself for automatically assuming that makes it more special. It’s a flawed way of thinking, and he’s been there before, and he knows it’s not true. He knows it means Lukas is ashamed to be his friend, not interested in anything more than something he doesn’t have to hang onto in the daylight.    
  
It continues for another two weeks, until it becomes habit. Every couple of days, they wait around until no one can see them leave together, and then they drive to the quarry to blow off steam for a few hours. At some point they exchange phone numbers, and from then on it’s just understood. That’s what they do, and they don’t miss the day of photography club.   
  
Tommy talks to Philip a little more regularly, and in photography club they sit beside each other, commenting and critiquing each other’s work, making bullshit small talk about class and teachers and the resolution on fancy cameras that Philip is too poor for. At one point they sit there taking pictures of the legs of rickety old desk legs, just to see how pretty you can make them with a good lens and some knowledge about colour levels. 

This time, though, Lukas decides to peek in before barging his way through the doors, and he manages to see Tommy before Tommy sees him. He hides -- probably somewhere stupid like around the corner -- until he presumably watches Tommy leave the building, and then he slides into the classroom. “Ready?” He asks, smile on his face.

  
“Ready.”   
  
Once they get there, it’s typical routine. Philip films Lukas on his bike, posts the video, does his best not to stare when Lukas does the helmet thing again, or when he takes off his jacket and his stomach shows a little, or when they move inside and he bends down to reach into the fridge and reveals a perfect view of his ass. It’s not going well, but Philip promised himself he wouldn’t get into a mess like this.   
  
To repeat: it’s not going well.   
  
Lukas tosses the only beer in the fridge back at Philip on the bed  _ before _ cautioning, “Don’t drop it,” which is definitely the reason why Philip inevitably  _ does _ drop it. “Oh come on,” Lukas laughs, watching as Philip opens the bottle to foam pouring over his shows.   
  
“Great. Thanks,” He says, but he’s laughing too, no matter how sarcastic he’s being. Even though the top is still mostly foam, arguably the grossest part of beer, Philip takes a swig anyway.   
  
Lukas reaches for it and Philip hands the bottle over without a second thought. “Hey, how many hits did I get?” he asks, and though Philip is busy checking, he still catches the wipe of the bottle lip Lukas does with his t-shirt, as though even sharing the same bottle is too gay for him.   
  
Somewhere far away, a chorus of gay boys who used to be closeted start laughing their asses off, and Philip sincerely wishes he could join them.   
  
Instead, he pretends not to see it in favour of answering Lukas’ questions about the video.

“My sponsors are going to go mental,” Lukas finally says, looking at the video again.

  
Philip keeps his cool, knows it’s normal. It’s a friendly thing to say. “It’s that good?”   
  
“Yeah, it’s that good! This is amazing, dude… Y-you’re amazing,” Lukas says, looking into Philip’s eyes and holding the eye contact and  _ yeah, _ that’s a  _ friendly thing to say. _ And then comes the next part, rushed, “I mean -- you’re awesome.” And sure, it’s a bit of a No Homo, but it’s also part of Lukas’ personality to try and cover his own ass. Not to mention, he’s still holding Philip’s gaze, and his eyes just darted to Philip’s lips and-- that’s it. He can’t hold back anymore.

In all fairness, Philip did originally predict this. He kind of knew it would happen, sort of knew it was bound to, but rejection -- it’s not something you get used to. Especially when it’s not a simple no, but a push. Effectively a “get away from me,” accompanied by the words, “What the hell are you doing?” as though even going for it is wrong, something to be ashamed of. A child drawing on the white bedroom walls in Sharpie, not crayon.

  
A thousand thoughts cross Philip’s mind in the small amount of time between Lukas’ words. 

This is not something he can undo, for one. This is not a, “Oh, don’t tell anyone I tried to kiss you, they’ll probably vote me off the island in a far less-pleasant fashion that involves pitchforks and my jaw kicked in!” This rejection is permanent, and it may as well be recorded and sent to everyone in the school for everything it’s going to do to his popularity, which is already in the proverbial toilet. He can’t assume Lukas isn’t going to tell everyone.

He has ruined the only enjoyable friendship he’s even gotten close to making while being in upstate New York. Once again, this is not a, “I know your entire family and town are probably super homophobic but you’re my only friend so far so please just try and forget the fact that I want to stick my tongue down your throat.” In fact, it’s surprising it’s taken this long for Lukas to hit him again.

Lastly: true rejection. Honest-to-God rejection. The brand that you can see coming from miles away and could never protect yourself from anyway because this shit just simply hurts that deep. It’s not an “Oh, I don’t like you like that.” It’s an “I cannot be seen in public with you, the very thought of being romantically involved with you makes my skin crawl. You are not worthy of me.”

  
And because Lukas is Lukas, he somehow derails all of those thoughts except the very first one within a minute of the actual incident itself.   
  
First, it’s with admittedly very, very poor attempts to change the subject. Talking about his whips isn’t much, but it isn’t kicking Philip’s teeth in either, or chewing him out, so he’ll take it. 

At the same time, he knows he deserves better. He knows he doesn’t have to sit there and accept whatever bullshit way this closeted brat tries to patch up the conversation and friendship so that he can go on pretending nothing is wrong in his perfect little family, and he’s not a disappointment for liking boys. Philip is above that, and he knows it.

“I thought you were into motocross,” Lukas says, and it’s so quiet, so confused, but it’s also complicated.

Philip just can’t force himself to keep it up. He can’t force himself to wait longer and then try again, or to try and pretend just to keep a friendship that the preppy asshole is ashamed of anyway, or even just to sit there and listen to every shitty excuse Lukas is going to try and throw his way. So he gives up. “No, actually, I’m not,” he says, and his plan is to book it out of there as fast as possible, no matter how far he has to walk back home. “So--”

  
And then there’s a hand on his jacket, and that uneasy voice from that first day saying “N-no, hey,” and telling him to wait, please, and to stay. And anyone could call Philip an idiot in that moment, but he does. He sits back down, and he waits.

And then Lukas’ hand is on his jacket sleeve, which doesn’t mean anything.

  
And Lukas is definitely closer, which also doesn’t mean anything.   
  
Even as Lukas’ hand is crawling up the sleeve of Philip’s leather jacket, even as he’s gently guiding Philip’s body, persuading him to turn, to come closer, it still doesn’t mean anything.   
  
And then Lukas is looking at his lips again, and the poor kid is practically shaking, and he leans in so quickly and so carefully to place a light peck on Philip’s mouth.   
  
Even then, Philip has to take a moment to remember that maybe that isn’t the friendliest thing to do in this situation. It seems like permission, an invitation, a question and an apology all at once, and Philip doesn’t know what to say.   
  
But he does know how to meet Lukas in the middle when he starts leaning in for another go.   
  
Maybe it’s weird, but Philip genuinely didn’t expect for Lukas’ lips to be so soft -- he doesn’t know what he expected, but the warmth that comes with a kiss that started so cold isn’t on the list.

It almost makes up for the break Lukas takes to say, “No one’s ever going to know about this. Because you’re not going to tell them.”  
  
And there it is, the shame again. All Philip can do is keep himself from rolling his eyes, huff out a “Whatever,” and pull Lukas back into him. It’s probably all sorts of different types of wrong that Philip isn’t concerned about it right now, more focused on kissing him again. He just knows that Lukas is bound to give up the act at some point, and if anything is going to help with that, it’s making out.  
  
They kiss with their whole body. Philip focuses on letting everything go, every restraint he was maintaining against his own thoughts, his own hopes about Lukas liking him. He lets himself melt into Lukas’ mouth, does his best to guide him.  
  
Lukas, on the other hand, seems careful, at least at the beginning. It seems difficult for him to apply the concept of kissing to a dude, when he’s grown so used to practicing on girls he may or may not actually like. And Philip gets it -- he was there once, for a short period of time, and he knows others who are still getting past it.  
  
After mere minutes, though, Lukas seems to give in to everything he’s ever felt and tried to hide. Philip doesn’t want to push too much, so Lukas is the reason the shirts come off, and Lukas is the reason Philip ends up with his back on the bed and Lukas’ hips between his thighs. Lukas is the reason they make out until the sun goes down, and Lukas is the one who can’t seem to help himself, has to move away from Philip’s lips to explore every other part of his body with his mouth, caressing Philip’s chest and placing kisses randomly, a thumb moving absently up and down the skin over his ribs.  
  
Except, of course, when Philip pulls out the condom.  
  
It’s a natural thought, that after starving himself for so long, Lukas might want some relief, to try something new. But with the way he reacts, it becomes clear to Philip that Lukas is probably not only a virgin with boys, but a virgin in general as well.

It also makes Philip wonder about what this changes for Lukas. From the beginning of the kissing and one offer of sex, it seems like Lukas is determined to believe this still doesn’t make him gay, that dick-in-ass is somehow crossing a threshold they haven’t already licked over on each others bodies at least once in the past hour or so. It’s a tiny bit worrisome, thinking about whether or not this will actually change anything for them.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed. He should have waited for Lukas to ask. He hates the way Lukas asks, “You’ve done this before,” as though it puts Philip above him. As though it makes him pathetic, or any less attractive, or like it’s something to worry about. So Philip does his best to hush him, to console him, to bring him back down to where they were comfortable for a while, in the silent space between heavy breaths and occasional huffed laughter.  
  
And for a while, Philip can let himself pretend.   
  
Before, as it usually goes in his life, everything goes to total, absolute, near-impressive levels of fan-hitting shit.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't hold back from writing them any longer, I just had to. feel free to leave feedback and criticism!!
> 
> contact me on tumblr: grimegarage


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